


A Hundred Times Every Day

by Lacrimula_Falsa



Series: Tony Stark Bingo 2020 (TSB Round Three) [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Breakup Fic, M/M, Tony Stark Bingo 2020, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:08:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26743396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacrimula_Falsa/pseuds/Lacrimula_Falsa
Summary: The little things hurt the most. [AU, past Steve/Tony, complete.]
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Tony Stark Bingo 2020 (TSB Round Three) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1599076
Kudos: 8
Collections: Tony Stark Bingo 2020





	A Hundred Times Every Day

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I do not own any part of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, nor any other Marvel franchise. This is a non-profit work produced solely for entertainment purposes.
> 
>  **Warnings!:** breakup fic, no happy ending
> 
> Angst? In my TSB fills? I don’t know how that happened.
> 
> This fic was written for round three of Tony Stark Bingo, an awesome event you can find at tonystarkbingo DOT tumblr DOT com (just fill in the dots and remove the spaces). Like almost all my fills for round three, it is _extremely incredibly_ late, because I had technical problems right out of a screwball comedy. A huge thank you to the TSB mods for their patience and understanding.
> 
> Comments are, as always, love.
> 
> \- - - - - - - -
> 
> Title: A Hundred Times Every Day  
> by Lacrimula Falsa  
> Card Number: 3108  
> Link: tba  
> Square Filled: T1 – Mirror Image  
> Ship/Main Pairing: past Steve Rogers/Tony Stark  
> Rating: T  
> Major Tags: breakup fic, unhappy ending  
> Summary: The little things hurt the most.  
> Word Count: ca. 378 words  
> \- - - - - - - -

It’s been twenty-eight days since they broke up.

Almost a month without Steve and Tony still hasn’t moved that ugly dresser out of the penthouse. Or Steve’s books. Or Steve’s socks.

It hurts to look at them, but every time he makes some half-hearted attempt to move them he gets as far as the door before he thinks “fuck it”.

Steve would mind that his things are cluttering up Tony's space. He's considerate like that. But Steve's not here, is he?

Steve is in California. Doing Captain America things. Surrounded by hot single fans, probably.

Tony never pictured himself as the petty jealous ex.

He was always the one who took the breakup calmly. He was the rich guy with ten models hanging off his arm and later he was the superhero. Both don’t really go with drowning your heartbreak in ice cream and ranting about what an asshole your ex is.

_ Ex _ , hah. What a joke. They’re technically still married.

It's funny because what Tony misses the most is that.

He misses being married. Something he never pictured for himself. How can he miss that so fiercely.

It’s probably Steve. Steve has a way of making everything seem bigger, bolder. Brighter. More worthy. Even Tony.

Tony, who’s been brushing his teeth at work, in the small bathroom next to his offic e at Stark Industries.

It’s ludicrous. He has a luxury bathroom at home.

But the bathroom at home is full of Steve.

No, not full of  _ Steve _ , not anymore. Full of Steve’s things. 

But not full of Steve.

The bathroom at work is better. There’s no second glass and toothbrush there, mocking him. The mirror there is small, just big enough to see his own face.

The mirror in the penthouse’s bathroom is huge. And now it only reflects one person in the morning.

It’s so strange. The big things barely touch him. The anniversary coming up. The cancelled trip to France. The pitying looks.

But the little things hurt him a hundred times every day.

How strange, to miss such silly things so much.

A small black notebook lying on the dresser. A set of keys on a hook. An umbrella, a jacket, a “good morning”.

A second reflection in a mirror that’s suddenly too big.


End file.
